


Discontinuity - Comment Fic and Other Such Short Stuff

by Slybrarian



Series: Discontinuity [16]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Bondage, Comment Fic, Humor, Kink, Language, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slybrarian/pseuds/Slybrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A growing collection of comment fics, drabbles, and other things too short to be posted separately. Featuring: call signs, cooking, linguistic difficulties, and reasons why bets involving bondage should be avoided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Native

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months after transferring to Atlantis, Cam has started to notice some oddities.

Cam noticed it almost immediately when he came to Atlantis the second time. He wants to think the only reason he hadn't spotted it the last time was that he'd barely spent any time in the city itself, but maybe, just maybe he sees it now because his own skin is tingling whenever he walks down the halls. They're subtle enough things, the little quirks that the other gene carriers have, both natural and artificial, and to the casual observer they might blend into the background of the city's general weirdness. Cam can see them all clearly now: the way Rodney can fix equipment while not even looking and berating someone on a completely different topic; how Amelia and Chuck react to incoming wormholes a second before the gate activates; Lorne's odd ability to find anyone, anywhere, anytime as long as they're in the city.

Then there was John.

John, who has always been anything but subtle. He stops mid-step and glances at random, unremarkable wall panels and casually sends maintenance requests to Zelenka before walking on. He practically creams his pants every time he's allowed to show off in the jumpers. He's always comfortable, no matter how much or how little clothing he's wearing, because the temperature is always just right. He even managed once to convince the food processor to produce chocolate instead of brightly-colored cubes of Play-Dough. It all comes as naturally to him as breathing.

John, who's murmuring quietly, "Yeah, yeah, _sicut ille, propara, amo te_," in a language that neither of them speak but Cam can understand perfectly none the less.

John, who's spread out on Cam's bed and barely coherent because Cam's right there on top of him, balls-deep inside of him, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. The dim lights flicker and shift with each little thrust; the air system starts and stops, gets louder and softer in perfect time to each breath John takes and each gasp he lets out. It feels like there's static in the air that builds with each moment and makes every little touch spark and crackle. It's been intensifying day by day, every time they've managed to sneak to each other's quarters or steal a moment alone, until now Cam can feel something more and greater all around them.

Cam knows he should be freaking out. This is exactly the sort of thing they warn you about in Stargate Command's standard Orientation and Processing briefings: alien influences, brain-altering technology, mental contamination. It explains so much, too, like the wistful tones Cam heard whenever Lorne and Parrish joined him and John for dinner and the three of them started talking about home, like the near-suicidal determination to retake the city John and his companions had possessed when the Asurans attacked. There's more than one person back on Earth who would declare them all compromised in a second. It feels so right, though, and Cam wonders how long it'll take him to go native just like the rest of them have.

Maybe he already has, because the thought doesn't even worry him.


	2. Language Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment Fic, prompt: gate translators are broken. Set during "The Return, Part 1"

The magical gate translators break Monday morning, for no reason that anyone can seem to figure out. One minute everything's fine; the next Teal'c and Vala are speaking gibberish that only Daniel can understand. It's not long before several SG teams have returned reporting the same thing. It seems to be something wrong with the SGC's gate specifically, because aliens at the off-world refugee sites seem to be able to talk to each perfectly fine; only the Tau'ri and those who use their gate are affected. It has Sam and the other technical geeks thoroughly annoyed, especially since some of the guys who grew up speaking Spanish are suddenly having trouble with English, like they haven't been using it for years. It was already a professional affront that no one could figure out how the translators worked, and now they've thrown another wrinkle into the matter.

Sam is busy fixing the gate, Teal'c has decided to re-watch Star Wars in the original language, and Vala is hanging off Daniel's arm and forcing him to act as an interpreter for her. With nothing better to do, Cam holes up in his office and tries to get ahead of his paperwork for once. It'd be nice not to have to worry about the evil sergeants from Admin hunting him down in addition to search for Merlin's stupid weapon.

It doesn't take long before John shows up, closes the door behind him, and says, "Anquietas loquo."

Cam blinks. "Huh?"

"Anquietas loquo!" John repeats, throwing up his hands. "Inglem loquere non possum!"

"Well, crap." Cam rubs his temple. "This could be a problem."

John scowls. "Vere, cogitares?"

"You can understand me?"

"Parvus." John shrugs helplessly. "De hoc dum nunc non scio. Pedicarendis merdam-ederendis Antiquis et sui damnaretur urbs mens-pedicarendum. Omnes se interficerebo et suis caderibus inmingebo.

"Okay, we can deal with this. I mean, how bad could it be?"

John stares at him incredulously. "Landry est suspiciousus nothus. Mi cerebrum incederibit."

"I don't know exactly what you said, but you probably have a point." Cam stands up. "Come on, with the gate shut down no one's going to mind if we skip out. Anyone else affected?"

"Laurentius in offico occuleret."

"Well, let's go collect him too."

They go and retrieve Lorne, who's hiding in his office with his botanist. They make it out of the SGC without any trouble, with Cam doing all the talking on the way past the security checkpoints.

"Serverator vitae es," John says as they walk through the parking lot. He looks thoughtful for a moment, then adds, "Ad via, te deperio. Amor vitae et medius mei mundi es."

"Scies ut pares illiam comprehendereat, vere?" Lorne asks.

John ducks his head and blushes.

"Scio."

\-----  
Translations:  
_"I'm speaking Ancient."  
"I'm speaking Ancient! I'm not able to speak English!"  
"Really, you think?"  
"A little. I didn't know about this until now. Fucking shit-eating Ancients and their damned mind-fucking city. I'm going to murder them all and piss on their corpses."  
"Landry is a suspicious bastard. He'll dissect my brain."  
"Lorne is hiding in his office."  
"You're a life saver. By the way, I'm madly in love with you. You're the love of my life and the center of my world."  
"You know that he [probably] understands parts of that, right?"  
"I know."_


	3. Send-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn Battle Entry. Prompt: Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1, John Sheppard/Evan Lorne/Cameron Mitchell, definitely against regulations. (Also Lorne/Mitchell, alley sex; and Sheppard/Mitchell, tag team)

This is a horrible idea, a really, amazingly, incredibly terrible idea, possibly the worst idea any of them have ever had, and given that Cameron Mitchell and John Fucking Sheppard are involved there have been a lot of bad ideas between them. There Evan is, though, in an alleyway not far from the bar they had just left, leaning against the wall with his pants down. He can't even imagine what would happen if a cop saw them. He doesn't even know what Doctor Weir would think if her senior officers were arrested for public indecency two days before the Daedalus was scheduled to depart, or what General O'Neill would do if he had to come and bail them and the new leader of SG-1 out of jail. Evan would probably die of embarrassment on the spot, no court martial or claims of alien influence needed.

Quite suddenly, all worries leave Evan's mind as John finally slides his cock into Evan's ass. It feels so fucking good and reminds Evan of just what he's been missing over the last couple of years. He hasn't been celibate by any measure, but there's sex and then there's sex with John and Cam.

"Oh, yeah," he grunts. He presses his hips back in a universal gesture for more. John is happy to oblige him, starting to fuck him hard and fast, with no thought for technique or anything else beyond getting off as quick as possible. Evan just groans and goes with it, rocking back to meet John's thrusts.

"Eager, aren't you?" Cam says from where he leans against the wall next to them.

"Fuck, yes", Evan gasps. Eager doesn't begin to cover it. He feels alive in a way he rarely does except when inside a cockpit or stepping through the gate, not even when he's in bed with some other man. Maybe it's the thrill of the risk they're taking, maybe it's because he's being fucked against a wall by a hot man with another waiting for his turn, or maybe it's just because who he's with.

Behind Evan, John is still going strong but his movements are getting erratic, his breaths more ragged. His hands find their way to Evan's hips and take hold with a strong grip. John starts groaning then and he thrusts one last time and holds there as he comes. Once he's completely spent he pulls out and Evan whimpers slightly at the sudden empty feeling, but Cam's already unzipping his jeans and stepping behind Evan, and a moment later he's inside him, entry eased by John's come.

There's a moment of burn as Evan's hole stretches to accommodate his greater girth, but it's gone as quick as it comes. Evan expects Cam to fuck him just like John did, but no, he's in a contrary mood and takes it slow. With each thrust he pulls almost all out and then slide in oh so smooth and slow until he's balls-deep and pressed against Evan's prostate. Evan quietly begs him to move faster, to really give it to him, but Cam just keeps at it for what feels like eternity. Finally Cam starts grunting out, "uh huh, uh huh, fuck, yeah," and he comes while slumping against Evan's back. It takes several long moments before his dick finally stops twitching and he steps away.

Him coming is all well and good, but Evan's painfully aware that his own cock is still hard and dripping. He's about the complain when there are hands on his hips, turning him around so that his back's to the wall. Then John's on his knees with his lips wrapped around Evan's cock and expertly sucking. Evan bucks up into his mouth, once, twice, three times and then he's emptying his balls into John. John swallows it all down and once Evan is spent he stands up with a smirk.

"See, nothing to worry about," John says.

"Fuck you, Sheppard," Evan says while trying to catch his breath. He pulls his underwear and jeans up and tries to ignore the drop of come sliding down his inner thigh.

"Wanna come back to the hotel?" Cam asks.

"What do you think?" Evan says with a grin. It's his second-to-last night on Earth, and unless something strange and miraculous happens it's not like he's going to be getting laid regularly on Atlantis, not anytime soon at least. Fuck yes he's spending the night with them.


	4. Morale Booster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn Battle. Prompt: Major in the middle

Evan makes his way to his quarters from the infirmary, wondering once again how David Parrish managed to get himself bitten by a plant and stuck in hospital bed for a week. Fortunately he's getting feeling back in his legs again, just as expected, and with any luck he'll be up and about within another two or three days. Evan will be glad when that happens, and not just because of how worried he's been.

He steps through the door and even as it closes he realizes something is wrong. It's a testament to how badly he's sleeping that he's barely started to react as two men jump him from either side of the door. He turns and instinctively throws a punch at the nearest intruder but his wrist is caught from behind by the other one. A moment later he finds himself sandwiched between the two men; a moment after that he realizes who they were.

"Colonels," Evan says. "This is a surprise."

"You know us," Cam replies behind him, "always full of surprises."

"Can I help you?"

"We're here to help you," John says with a grin. "Given how much your week's been sucking, we thought you could use some cheering up."

"Maybe with some sucking of the enjoyable sort," Cam adds.

Evan starts blushing furiously and is suddenly all too aware of the inviting heat of their bodies against his. "I'm fine, really."

"Your partner says you've been moping," John says.

"I have not," Evan protests.

"You have," Cam says with a chuckle that rumbles against Evan's back. "Even McKay's noticed."

"Which is why David asked us to give you a hand," John says.

Evan suspects that he should probably be worried about the fact that his partner is conspiring with two of his oldest friends and former sometimes-lovers to 'cheer him up'. He's not worried, though, mostly because he's almost instantly rock-hard and unable to think beyond 'hell yes'.

"I don't know if that's fair to him," Evan manages to say. "If he's not getting... cheered up, I shouldn't either."

"You really mean that?" Cam asks, rubbing up against Evan in a way that makes it clear he's hard, too.

"Yeah," Evan gasps. It comes out barely understandable because Sheppard's started kissing Evan's neck.

"You're entirely too noble for your own good, but we all knew that," Cam murmurs in his ear, "which is why we've got a webcam set up to record it for him. I bet that'll cheer him up plenty the next time you're away on a mission without him."

"Oh," Evan says, and "Fuck," when Sheppard grinds against him, and finally, "Bed?"

They make it to the bed with only a minimal amount of fumbling and stumbling about as they undress. They haven't done this in almost two years, not even during the exile on Earth, but they fall into old patterns quickly. They drop onto the mattress together, kissing and stroking and playfully tussling to see who will come out on top. John and Cam seem to have a plan because no matter what Evan does to distract them or wiggle away he stays firmly between them.

Evan's still in the middle when John rolls aside and starts rummaging through Evan's nightstand for lube and condoms, although by that point he's too busy concentrating on not coming while Cam blows him. He's not so out of it that he doesn't enjoy the show as John starts prepping himself, although it's a near thing when John hand the lube off to Cam, who promptly slicks his own fingers up and slides them inside Evan. They end up with John on his hands and knees, Evan behind him, and Cam behind him, joined at the hips in a chain. Evan just focuses on holding himself up straight, letting John and Cam do all the work. Cam fucks Evan, which makes Evan fuck John; John rocks back and Evan goes back as well. It's as close to heaven as Evan's ever been; the only way it could be better would be David being there too.

Finally they're all spent and laying in a tangled mess. Not for the first time, Evan wonders what kind of saint he had been in some previous life to deserve falling in with friends like John and Cam - although maybe it's something he deserves for putting up with their crazy antics and not shooting them after one of their insane stunts.

"You guys rock," Evan mumbles. "Seriously."

"Cheered up?" Cam asks. John's too busy snoring to add a remark of his own.

"Oh, yeah," Evan says. "Definitely cheered up."


	5. Call Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment fic. Prompt: Cam/John, pilot slang

"What do you mean, you don't have call signs?" Cam asked, utterly aghast at the idea. He was supposed to be having a friendly get-together with all the military jumper pilots (with a few civilian hangers-on) but there he was, two minutes in and his night already on the verge of being ruined.

John shrugged and ducked his head in shame. "Well, I was the only real pilot for a year, or at least the only real pilot. We got another a couple more during the siege but they ended up back on Earth for one reason or another. Since then, well, it's mostly been just me and a bunch of guys with the gene who aren't professional pilots."

"Oh, that's that sorriest excuse I've ever heard. You're a disgrace to your uniform. Even Marine aviators have call signs, John. You're in the Air Force! A rotor pilot, sure, but that's no excuse." Cam looked over at Lorne. "Why didn't you set him right?"

Lorne spread his hand. "Hey, I'm just a logistician with a pilot's license, I never got to hang out with the fighter jocks."

"We let you hang out with us!" Cam protested.

"Usually to my considerable detriment, sir."

"Whatever." Cam turned to face the two dozen or so men and women who filled the rec room. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Shaft, as in Camshaft, and as the senior pilot and commander of this squadron, battalion, whatever the hell you want to call it, I am invoking executive privilege to correct this example of gross malfeasance." He turned back to John and pursed his lips, his tongue peeking out between them. "I hearby dub thee Furball."

"What?" John said. "Hell, no."

"I could go with Fluffy, if you'd like."

"Oh, screw you, Shaft."

"And let's see, Lorne, Lorne should be..."

"Eeyore," John suggested.

"Eeyore," Cam confirmed.

"I'm going to kill you both," Lorne said, fighting a smile.

Cam grinned, turned to the nearest table of airmen and marines, and started pointing at people. First was Lt. Costanza, "Hotdog," and around the table were, "Fireball, Joker, Angel, Big Bird, Crashdown."

"Wait a second..." Lorne muttered behind him.

John stood up next to Cam and took over, singling out the table where Lorne's team sat. "Thistle," he named Parrish, "Hunter, Giant, and... hmm." He studied The Clone. "Knockoff."

And so it went, the two of them giving out callsigns to the sound of increasing laughter and cheers: Panda, Duck, Catfish, Blueballs, and on until each and every person had one. John finished off by saying, "And even though he's not here, McKay is Lemon."

"And now, in pilot tradition, this is the part where we all get smashed," Cam announced. "If you're on-duty, unspike punch is available."

They sat down and Cam leaned over to tell John, "I can't believe you waited this long to do this, Furball."

"So sue me. What do you say we wait until this lot are all drunk enough not to notice, then sneak off so I can make sure your camshaft's properly lubed up, Shaft?"

"Sounds good to me."


	6. Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment Fic: SGA/SG1, John/Cam, they don't know that we know they know we know.

"Have you noticed," Cam asked while watching Costanza and Hendricks slink out the door, red-faced after discovering the storage room was already in use, "that in the last two months the number of people who know about us has roughly tripled?"

"Bullshit," John said. He hitched up his pants. "We're doing a great job at keeping this on the down-low."

Cam eyed him. "I don't think that means what you think it means."

"Whatever."

"I've just saying, more people have found out since the Ancients kicked you out than usually did in an entire year? Hell, in five years?"

"I really don't think so," John said. "You're exaggerating."

"Oh really? Let's count them. Sam, Teal'c, Daniel, Vala, McKay, Dex -"

"Teams don't count," John said.

Cam ignored him and continued. "Chuck, Banks, Doctor Weir, Stackhouse, both Winchesters, Cloneill, the bigger O'Neill, that one cook, Parrish -"

"He doesn't count either. He's Lorne's guy, he's part of the package."

"Perverted package," Cam muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Quiet, I'm trying to count. Where was I? Oh, right. Doctor Beckett, Doctor Heightmeyer, Doctor Biro and boy, wasn't that fun? Doctor Porter, probably Sergeant Mehra by now, and maybe Captain Vega if they really did get dosed with truth drugs yesterday."

"Oh, come on," John said. "That's nothing compared to the some other times."

"I can count on two hands the people we let know before," Cam pointed out. "Noel Allison, Jenny Enfield, Tim Holland, a few others."

"Lorne."

"I thought Lorne doesn't count?"

"Well, we told him, didn't we? And there's the guys and gal at Callahan's."

"They don't count. That's just some people in a pub, they didn't really know who we were."

"Then there's the big groups," John said with a gleeful smirk. "Dave and his family. Ash. Momma and your Daddy."

"Now hold on."

"Cindy Lou and the kids, Gran'ma, Skipper and Spencer, Uncle Al, Uncle Henry, Aunt Lavinia," and John was off, rattling through the family tree like he was born a Mitchell instead of just adopted. John's ability to miraculously remember and forget names based solely on whether it benefited him at one moment or another has at turns amused and annoyed Cam. Right then he was wavering between them.

"So you see," John concluded, petering out at about three generations in all directions, "in my first visit home, we were outed to more people in about thirty minutes than we have since the Fucking Ancients kicked us out and we finally got to sleep together again. And about thirty minutes after that, a hundred more people knew by your weird Mitchell telepathy."

"They're family," Cam said with a grin and a chuckle.

John spread his hands. "So's everyone here."

"Okay, maybe you have a point," Cam admitted after a moment. "What'd you say we take this somewhere else? My knees are killing me. I think I'm too old for storage rooms."

"Office?"

"Sure, why not. We just need to lock the door."


	7. Forfeit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment fic. Prompt: How about a bet to make things interesting

"So, what lesson did we learn from this?" Lorne asked as he looped ropes around Cam's ankles.

"That I clearly need to spend more time practicing with the jumpers," Cam said.

"You spend half your time teaching the nuggets how to fly already," Lorne pointed out. "Spread your knees a little more, would you?"

"That better?" Cam asked after awkwardly scooted his knees apart as much as he could comfortably, trusting Lorne not to let him fall over. The motion made his cock and balls, held out by a leather strap, jiggle and bounce.

"Yeah." Lorne bent down and started to make more loops around each of Cam's thighs, with the excess rope from each being left to hang out to the sides to be tied down later. "The lesson here is that you might have been the best starfighter pilot on the planet - impressive, certainly, even if there were only two dozen of you - but John's just as good. Flex."

"That might be true," Cam grudgingly admitted, flexing his thighs and feeling the ropes stay firmly in place.

"There's no might about it," Lorne said. He moved around behind Cam to the sides of the bed so he could pull the ropes from Cam's ankles and thighs tight and tie them down using the bed's convenient attachment points. It wasn't long before Cam was unable to move his legs at all.

"I'm just out of practice," Cam added. "I've been on the ground too long. A month isn't going to change that."

Lorne chuckled. "Sure, which is why Chuck's moved the odds from from one to four to one to three. Lean forward. You think you can hold that with your hands behind your back?"

"Hmmm." Cam bent at the waist and turned his head so his face was resting on the mattress. The last time he and John had been stationed together, there wouldn't have been any question about it, but since then he'd aged more than he'd like to admit and crashed his fighter into a glacier. On the other hand, he'd also gotten surprisingly used to being tied up, cuffed, chained, or otherwise restrained for long periods.

"I'll be fine," he said after a moment.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just put a couple pillows there for support."

"Gotcha. Up, hands back." Lorne started to tie Cam's wrists together. "Your problem is that John's on his home turf with the jumpers. You're still stuck thinking of them just as fighters, but they're got a lot more hover and side-sliding capabilities than the 302s. He's used to that with choppers, you're not. You need to practice those more."

"Great." Cam shook his head and laughed. "I'm getting advice from a logistician with a civil pilot's license."

"You'd best listen anyways. The honor of the fighter mafia is at stake." Lorne popped the lube open. "Bend over again."

"You better warm that up," Cam warned.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." Lorne started rubbing the slick into Cam's hole, gentle and methodical. "That good?"

"Yeah, that's - ah! That's good." Cam closed his eyes as Lorne slipped a finger inside, then another. "Parrish is a lucky, lucky man. Understanding, too."

"He doesn't mind me practicing a bit, seeing as how he benefits too. Besides, I promised pictures. Here comes the plug."

Cam grunted as Lorne slid a decent-sized plug into his ass, then said, "Your partner is a pervert. He could have come himself, you know."

"He's busy with a rare bloom thingy. It lets me practice my photography anyways." Lorne pulled Cam up straight and looked him over. "Feel fine?"

"Yeah."

"Time for the gag, then." Cam opened his mouth and let Lorne fit the bit gag into his mouth. "Still good?" Cam nodded and Lorne finished by putting the blindfold on. He gave Cam a last pat on the shoulder and got off the bed. A moment later he said, "Sheppard, Lorne. Your package is ready."

Cam started taking deep breaths and let himself relax as he waited. A few minutes passed before he finally heard the outer door open and someone move around in the living room. Shortly after that footsteps came near.

"You've really outdone yourself this time, Evan," John said. Cam shivered as he ran his fingers up Cam's thighs, across his butt and then on along his back, neck, and jaw to finally circle his lips.

"Thank you, John. I try."

John chuckled. "Well... let's get this show on the road."


	8. Special Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment Fic: and then there was the time when Cam was turned into a teenager

John is not entirely unsurprised when Cam storms into his room and flops onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. He's been expecting something like that to happen for the last couple hours since dinner, as he's pretty sure alien transformation rays warrant a visit.

"Do you have any idea how much being a teenager sucks?" Cam asks.

"I remember, yeah," John answers.

"No. No, you don't," Cam says. "I thought I remembered too, but I was wrong. It's like how you can't actually remember pain. I can't stop eating, my voice keeps cracking, I keep tripping over myself, and my mood changes every minute."

"Maybe you should go talk to the Clone and commiserate."

"Oh, please. He's already given me a ton of shit about this not being permanent, there's no way I'm dealing with him right now." Cam rolls his eyes. "Do you know what the worst part is? The constant horniness. I've jerked off twice since we got home and I still keep getting turned on by everything from sweaty marines to potted plants. The aliens did something to make it worse than usual. I'm sure it wasn't this bad the first time around. Hell, look, I'm getting hard just talking about it."

John very carefully does not look. He's seen enough of Cam's lanky, athletic form already. "That's... nice."

Cam snorts and glares at him. "Why aren't we having sex yet?"

"Because you're twelve, that's why."

"Eighteen." John eyes Cam; he corrects himself. "Seventeen. Sixteen and a half, at worst. So what? I'm a few inches shorter and I don't have as much bulk. I'm still mature, more or less! Look at these muscles. And I haven't lost anything downstairs."

John does not need to be imagining that. "It'd still be like having sex with Skipper. Who would kill me if he found out, by the way."

"No, he wouldn't."

"He would."

"Would not."

"Would."

"Whatever," Cam says. "Okay, if you don't want to fuck me, how about I fuck you? I could keep it up all night, I bet."

"Still not happening."

Cam huffs and rolls his eyes again. "Fine. I'm going over to Lorne's quarters."

"He's not going to have sex with you either." John hopes not, at least. He would hate to have to kill him.

"I bet he will if I ask nicely," Cam says, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "Even if not, I'm raiding the sex toy locker. Something is going up my ass soon, whether you cooperate or not."

"Have fun," John says, hoping that his voice didn't really tremble a little.

"Oh, I will," Cam says. "So will Lorne. And Parrish. And if I wear them out, maybe some of the marines too."

He stomps out the door and John lets out a sigh of relief. If he was careful, he could avoid thinking about Cam until it was safe to do so. It was only a couple days, after all. A few extra runs, some cold showers, jerking off preemptively while not thinking about what Cam might do with the various dildos and plugs that they've smuggled in and have hidden in a secret compartment, especially not the larger ones that would stretch out Cam's waiting - no, bad thoughts, abort, abort!

John thought maybe he needed one of those showers right now.

About ten minutes, his radio chirped with the distinctive sound of their private channel. "John, it's Evan."

Shit. Lorne only uses first names in a few very specific situations, and John did not want it to be one of those right now. "Yeah?"

"I just thought you should know, Cam's here. And look, I don't want to sound like a pervert or something... but he's going through the toys and he keeps licking his lips in a really obscene way. Huh? Right. David says he agrees, definitely obscene. Plus he's planning aloud. So, I mean, we'll send him away if you want, or back your direction... but I'm just saying, he is an adult, and in a bit of an awkward situation what with hormones and all...."

Lorne trails off, leaving John to wonder just what Cam must be doing or saying to leave Lorne at a loss for words. That wondering only leads straight to a very special hell, though. Actually, no - John's pretty sure he's in hell right now.

"Um," he says after a moment, standing and mapping out how to best get to Lorne's place without anyone noticing his hard-on. "Okay, fine, he wins. Tell him to hold on, I'll be there in five."

"I'm not sure he's going to wait that long."

"Did I say five? I meant two."


	9. Unexpected Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cam finds something surprising in John's porn stash.

Cam didn't exactly go looking for John's porn stash. He just happened to come across it while using John's laptop. It wasn't like it was encrypted or anything, or even that well hidden. Once he was looking at it, well, curiosity got the better of him.

A little-known fact about Atlantis that Cam had discovered upon arriving was that you could find just about anything legal on the file servers and network drives. It was practically a community obligation to bring a hard drive crammed full of files with you whenever you made the Earth-Pegasus trip, and while the expedition's librarian made sure popular titles were covered without unnecessary duplication - read, made sure that only HD movies and lossless music came along - everything else was more or less depended on what people pulled off the Pirate Bay while on leave. It was a good thing that the expedition was classified, because they wouldn't have to worry about the Wraith sucking them dry as the MPAA and RIAA would do it first. In any case, by the time Cam arrived, there were several terabytes of illicit music, videos, games, and other materials sitting in the database. Marines being Marines and scientists being scientists, a not-inconsiderable portion of it was porn.

Thus, with selection not being an issue, the question was - what favorites did John Sheppard like enough to keep on his own computer for easy access?

There was a scattering of decent military fetish porn, mostly of the pilot variety: possibly a bit egotistical, but none too surprising. Farmboy-themed porn, ditto, although Cam would have to remind him that he wasn't an actual farm boy. Bondage porn - been there, done that. There did seem to be quite a bit focusing on threesomes, moresomes, double-penetration, and gangbangs, but again, knowing John's predilections that was pretty much par for the course. Certainly he'd enjoyed things quite a bit the last time he'd gotten fucked by Cam, Lorne, and Parrish in one session.

Then Cam found the Wormhole X-treme porn, not only the straight and gay rip-off videos that Sam still hadn't managed to purge from the Internet but also fan fiction. He was still sitting there open-mouthed when John wandered in.

"Hey, Cam," John said, flopping into the chair across from Cam. "What're you up to?"

"You have Wormhole X-treme porn on your computer," Cam blurted.

"Oh. That." John shrugged and scratched his head. "I downloaded it as a joke, but you know, some of it's kind of hot."

"There's porn on your computer about me and Daniel. And about me and Teal'c. And me, Daniel, and General O'Neill."

"It's not really you," John said. "Also, you have to admit, O'Neill's pretty hot."

He really was, and so was his clone now that the guy was putting on some muscle - wait, no. Hot or not, he was the General. Also, either Sam or Daniel would kill Cam if he thought about it. He still wasn't quite sure which. Possibly Teal'c, too.

"I'm deleting this," Cam declared. "Then I'm going to get McKay and have him delete it off every computer in the city."

"That's no fun," John said. "Some of it's really amazing."

"Don't care, it's going."

"You should at least read some of it first." John waggled his eyebrows. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Well... I suppose I could be convinced to hold off a bit."

As it turned out, Cam never got around to deleting anything. Also, he had to admit, some of it was hot, not to mention a good source of ideas.


	10. AMTDI, Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SGA/SG1, John/Cameron, spice

"I though you said," Cam gasped, "that this sort of thing never happens."

"It doesn't!"

"We're two for two."

"I've never - oh God - never visited during a high holy day. Wait, wait, no, do that again. Yeah, like that."

"Like this?"

"Exactly! So yeah, no idea their holiday spices were aphrodisiacs."

"Sure. I think you're lying and that your entire galaxy is a bunch of perverts. And would you lift your ass a little more? If I hold this position any longer my knees are going to kill me."

"It's your galaxy too now, and when did we get so old? We used to be able to do this for, like, hours without - oh. Ah. Mmmmmm."

"Uh huh."

"Harder."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. Fuck, Cam, please."

"I know, oh God, hold on, I just... oh, fuck."

Silence.

"I suppose things could be worse," Cam said eventually.

"Yep."

"And you really had no idea?"

"Nope. Well, not about this one. There is one that's big about warrior bonds. Lorne liked that one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"We should go there next."

"Sure."

"Huh. I'm already getting hard again."

"God, I love alien spices."


	11. Kate Made Them Talk About When AMTDI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment fic: SG1/SGA, Cam/John, AMTDI

"Traumatic? Yeah, I think you could say the experience was traumatic all right. Someone was having trouble getting it up and so by the time I managed to get him hard my jaw was sore."

"Excuse me for not being into it when there's dozens of people watching, half of whom were old enough to be my Gran'ma."

"Funny, you're always hard as a rock whenever Parrish is watching us with Lorne."

"Parrish is a friend. I've blown Parrish. This was a bunch of space-nuns and I repeat: old enough to be my Gran'ma. Also, should you be mentioning the two of them in front of the doc?"

"Please, there's no way she doesn't already know. I bet Lorne comes in here and spends his entire session bitching about us. Anywhere, where was I? Oh, right, my sore jaw."

"You know, if we're going to complain about sore, let's talk about my ass."

"It's not my fault you didn't bring any emergency lube."

"I didn't realize that a visit to a so-called 'perfectly nice and normal' ally so I could introduce myself would require emergency lube!"

"That's the entire point of emergency lube. You have it for emergencies like that."

"I never had any emergencies like that on SG-1! Besides, you didn't have more than one tiny-assed little packet."

"I used most of it the other day in the jumper."

"Okay, I suppose that's a decent excuse. Still - I don't think I can be blamed for not realizing a meet and greet would involve public sex on an altar, especially since my second in command didn't mention the planet had strange rituals."

"How was I supposed to know they'd have some kind of holy love detector?"

"Fucking Ancients."

"Yeah."

"If I'd known the gene therapy would mean having to have public nunnery sex I would never have gotten it."

"Oh, bullshit. The jumpers are totally worth it."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Fine, it's worth it. Maybe if someone was a little more careful the experience wouldn't have been so bad."

"I said I was sorry!"

"You pushed me off the altar! Onto a hard stone floor! My bones aren't exactly made for that sort of thing these days."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch. Just wait, he's going to try to get sympathy points for crashing into a glacier."

"As if you could have done any better."

"I so could have."

"Uh huh. That's why I kick your ass every time we dogfight."

"Do not."

"Do so."

"Do not."

"Do so."

"Colonel. Colonel. I think I've heard enough. I'm just going to put down 'not traumatized' and okay you for duty."

"You sure? You haven't even heard any of the details yet."

"I think I've heard enough."


	12. Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angelofmercy said, "Since demons = aliens and John traded his soul as he understood it (assuming all of season 1 and 2 of SPN apply to Discontinuity), what happened to his soul?"

John woke up and found himself laying on a hard metal surface. He pushed himself up, climbed to his feet, and looked around. He was in a bare, cubical room, perhaps fifteen feet on a side. The room was evenly lit, but there were no obvious lights and John himself cast no shadow. He couldn't see any seems where there might be doors, but he started to feel along one wall in case one was hidden. He found nothing there; if anything in was unnaturally smooth.

"Hello, John," a woman said behind him. He spun around and found a tall woman with blonde hair and a red dress standing by the opposite wall. "Welcome to Gehenna. I'm Natasiel, the facility intake coordinator."

"Is this hell?" he asked. He had expected more fire, brimstone, and screaming, but then, being locked in a box for all eternity could work just as well.

Natasiel smiled slightly. "That's one name your kind has given this place. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't have to be unpleasant, though. All you have to do is cooperate and you'll be rewarded."

Like hell, John thought. "Cooperate with what?"

"You'll be a soldier in our coming war. Sooner or later the Enemy will come for us, and we'll need every person we can get. Many of the weapons we need to fight effectively on this plane of existence require the soul of a sapient being to drive them. An experienced soldier like yourself will be especially valuable. Once you've adjusted to your new circumstances, I'll take you to meet the rest of your cohort."

John laughed incredulously. "Why would I possibly fight for you?"

"You will fight for us because we tell you to fight for us. You belong to us, as you agreed."

"You killed my wife, and you've been hounding my son his entire life!"

"Azazel's methods are unfortunate at times, but we have little control over him." Natasiel shrugged and smiled again. "His report regarding young Samuel is very promising, though. Perhaps you'll be able to fight alongside him some day."

John launched himself at her with a roar, only to be knocked to the floor with contemptuous ease. Before he could get up again she placed the heel of her shoe against his throat.

"I'm going to be clear about a couple of things, John," she said, still speaking with a pleasant tone. "First, this is just a storage virtuality. The physical substrate it exists on is located in hidden base in the galaxy you call Andromeda. There can be no escape, for we have complete control over this it and by extension over you. I could kill you right now, and you would awaken again whenever I felt like reviving you. That leads to my second point: if we need to, we can torture you for however long it takes to break you, without worrying about your survival. We'd prefer you sane, but we can make use of you even if you're a gibbering wreck. We can also let you experience pleasures that no physical human could even dream of. The choice is yours"

"Fine," John croaked. "I'll help you."

This time her smile was downright predatory. "I can tell when you're lying, you know. It goes with the territory. I'll leave you to think about it for a while. Just remember that cooperation will be reward, and resistance... will be punished."

She jammed her foot down and crushed his trachea, then disappeared, leaving John to silently scrabble at his throat and slowly choke to death.


End file.
